


Penance

by Noxifer



Series: Bound by Moonlight [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: D/s, Gen, Kneeling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 00:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10932981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noxifer/pseuds/Noxifer
Summary: Two weeks ago, Samantha Dermott made a bad decision, screwing up big time. It resulted in her not only betraying another member of her pack but also the BDSM club she’s a member of. Now it’s time to face the consequences.Note: This can be read at any time after chapter 30 of Devotion, the first part in the series. As far as I know, it contains no spoilers for anything after that.





	Penance

**Author's Note:**

> This was... interesting. I'm not used to writing female protagonists, but Sam demanded to tell me this bit. I'm not sure if I'll end up writing a multi-chapter about her, or if she'll go back to being just a side character.
> 
> As usual, I will add mouse-over explanation to the odder terms I use.

Saturday. Three nights of enforced submission, two days of mostly boredom, everyone too tired to actually do much. And she’d accepted it. She could, technically, safe-word her way out of it, but that would mean leaving the pack. She wasn’t ready for that. She _liked_ her home, liked both the town near where she lived and the city where the club was, liked the club. She wanted to stay, and she wanted to make up for what she’d done. If she left, she’d only be running away from her problems. A good Domme didn’t do that.

Kieran understood her, didn’t he? He’d mentioned that good dominants had some experience with submitting. Surely it wasn’t a coincidence that her punishment, her penance, was a month of submission? Yes, it was frustrating to have to show deference to everyone else in the pack, to be at the very bottom. It had been worse than frustrating to not be allowed to hunt, to have a _baby-sitter_ as though she was completely helpless. But… in the end, it was bearable so long as she reminded herself that it was only for four weeks.

The first thing she’d done when Kieran came home again after giving Nick a lift to work Thursday was to respectfully request to talk to him. She hadn’t cared whether she was supposed to just wait to be noticed or not; she’d needed to speak to him. As soon as he agreed to her request, she’d asked if she’d be allowed to go to Devotion. Technically, an omega wasn’t required to ask permission to go out, but… she wasn’t really the usual kind of omega, was she?

“Why?” he’d asked her.

She’d forced the words out. “I told you before, pack leader. I didn’t only betray the pack. What I did… I need to tell Lady Neassa what I did.” She’d guessed he knew Neassa, or at least knew _of_ her, and his lack of confusion proved it. “I’m a member of the club, and… No member should have done what I did, and I need to face the consequences.” She’d risked glancing up at his face again. “I won’t run away from it, sir.”

Kieran had been quiet for a long time, the seconds ticking past, each of them grating on her nerves until each sound from the clock in the living room had become an unbearable torture. “Not until the full moon is past,” he finally declared. “You’ll be too tired to go there early, and we have no idea how long she’ll keep you there. The risk of you changing in front of humans is too great.”

“But–” She shouldn’t have tried to argue, but the word had slipped out before she could stop herself.

“Saturday,” Kieran had interrupted, the finality in his voice making her want to cower before him. He hadn’t often pushed his dominance onto her like that; she could still count the occasions on one hand.

“Saturday, sir,” she’d acknowledged in a quiet voice, and that was that.

Now it was Saturday, and she’d accepted a ride to Devotion from Donna. The alpha didn’t, thankfully, demand to come inside with her, didn’t even offer to do so. While part of her wanted the safety of another pack member behind her back, it wasn’t right. She needed to face this on her own.

“Give us a bell when you’re done,” Donna only said. “I’ll come get you.”

“It’s fine, you don’t–”

“Just _do it_.”

The words were a very threatening growl, and Sam swallowed down her protest. “Yes, alpha,” she responded. Unlike with the majority of the pack members, there was no dissonance inside her when Donna gave her an order. Kieran and Donna, and to a smaller degree Charlie and Caleb, were the only wolves who were more dominant than her, the only wolves who could demand her respect even from a beta’s point of view. She didn’t need to remind herself of her change in status with _them_.

Donna nodded at her, but didn’t put her helmet back on or put the one Sam had borrowed away. She merely waited. It was… different. Before all this had happened, Donna had on occasion given her a ride somewhere, but she’d never been this… over-protective. She’d simply dropped Sam off and driven away.

Sam turned away and gazed at the door. Part of her wanted to go around to the back door and knock, wanted to avoid people seeing her there. Swallowing down the urge, she directed her steps to the front door, the heels of her boots loud on the asphalt of the small parking lot. She prayed helplessly that it would be locked, that the club for some reason would be closed for the day, preventing her from what she was about to do. It wasn’t. Despite the early hour, it responded to her pull and opened up. Behind her, she heard Donna start her bike. Clearly, she’d only waited to make sure Sam could get in, but even that was a strange experience.

Murchadh wasn’t the one on duty today. Instead, the doorman – not a bouncer, not this early in the evening – was someone she vaguely recalled seeing before, but she’d be damned if she could remember his name. She cleared her throat, nevertheless, to call his attention. He looked her over, took in her relatively modest outfit; while a halterneck top, a knee-length straight skirt and two inch heels were very daring when it came to riding pillion on Donna’s bike, they weren’t exactly what club members wore. Sam hadn’t dared to expect she’d still be a member. Not after what she had to tell Neassa. After staring at her face for a few seconds longer than he’d spent on her outfit, the doorman’s eyes narrowed.

“Samantha Dermott, is it?”

She jerked her head into a nod. Had they figured out something of what she’d done? Had Kieran told them? No, surely he’d have informed her if he had. Maybe the human just had a better memory for names than she did. Yeah, and maybe she’d win the lottery tomorrow. Judging by the look on his face and his scent, he didn’t just remember her from having seen her at the club. “I’d like to see Lady Neassa, if it’s possible,” she said politely, just barely holding back the urge to call him ‘sir’. Two days as a pretend omega, and she was already acting like a sub in front of humans? She should be a lot more disgusted with herself than she was. The man’s expression didn’t change. “I… I’ve got something I need to tell her.”

For another minute, he kept looking at her. Then he spoke up. “I’ll see what I can do.” He took too steps away from her, turned his head and sent a sharp whistle across the room. Had it been a club night, that would never have worked; the sound would have vanished in the music. But this early on a Saturday, it was still quiet enough that it made conversations pause and the majority of the people in the room turned to look their way. Turned to look at _her_.

The man waved one of the club’s service subs over, a man who looked to be in his mid-twenties. Again, Sam couldn’t quite remember his name. She _should_ , since not many men had that long hair. Leaning in close, the doorman whispered something to the sub. Sam could barely make out the words from where she stood, which said something.

“Go see if Lady Neassa is busy. Tell her Samantha’s here and wants to talk to her.”

She resisted the urge to swallow and fidget, instead doing her best to pretend she had no idea what the man had said. The sub ran off, his almost waist-long braid swaying behind him, and the doorman turned back to her. Folding his arms over his chest, he stared at her for what had to be several minutes. Then he nodded his head at a bench along the wall, probably where he himself sat when he had a moment to himself.

“Sit,” he instructed. “It’ll likely take a while.”

She took a deep breath to calm herself down, then nodded. “Thank you,” she said, taking a seat. They then did their best to ignore each other, and she tried not to pay attention to the sporadic club member coming in the door and being welcomed far more warmly than she had. She didn’t blame the doorman in the least, of course, though she’d hoped he’d be a bit more discreet about it.

It seemed to take forever for the sub to return with his message, a simple, “She’ll see her,” whispered equally softly. She pretended not to have heard.

“Go on, then,” the doorman responded.

The sub stepped up to her. There was something slightly off about his scent. Not much, just a hint of softness that wasn’t quite masculine as well as a suggestion that maybe the sub wasn’t quite as young as he looked. It was intriguing, but Sam didn’t have time to think about it as the man opened his mouth. “Would you please come with me, Miss, I’ll take you to Lady Neassa’s office.”

For a moment, the courtesy title felt wrong. Then she remembered that her status had only changed within the pack, not within the club. She covered a wince as she stood up. That wasn’t likely to remain the same for long. “Thank you,” she said simply, nodding at the man to lead the way.

Crossing the room, she felt as if everyone’s eyes were on her, that every unintelligible conversation was about her. Realistically, she knew that wasn’t very likely, but her skin still crawled with discomfort. She didn’t usually mind the attention, taking pride in both her appearance and her skills, but this was a lot different than performing a public scene. She was glad once she slipped inside the door leading to the offices in the back and the door was between her and the other club members.

The sub led her to the door she’d only been through once before, back when she first joined the club and she’d been interviewed. She’d been nervous then, but it was nothing compared to now, when she _knew_ she was in trouble. Part of her wanted to turn on her heel and run away as the man’s knuckles rapped sharply against the wooden door. She ignored that part. Running away wouldn’t help her case, nor would it be worthy of her.

“Enter.”

Sam shivered slightly at the steel in that voice. Lady Neassa might not be a wolf, but there was no mistaking what she was. A displeased alpha.

The door swung open and the sub stepped aside with it, clearing the way for Sam. With no other way out, Sam entered the office, only just managing not to flinch at the door closing behind her, trapping her inside the room.

“You wanted to speak to me?”

Neassa’s voice did nothing to change the feeling of being trapped. Sam’s eyes darted around as she took in the room. There was no one else in there, though scent had already made that clear. There were also no chair in front of the desk; the only other chairs in the room were stacked up in one corner, making it obvious she wouldn’t be allowed to sit.

She had to swallow down the lump in her throat to be able to answer. “I do, my lady.” Steeling herself, she slowly approached the desk and the woman seated behind it. Neassa said nothing, only waited. “I…” There was no way around it. “Two weeks ago, I paid a member of the club’s security staff in order to obtain a specific surveillance video.”

Neassa’s expression didn’t change. There was no shock or surprise in her scent. She had to have already known, or at the very least suspected. “Who?”

“I don’t know his name, my lady. About my height, dark hair, smokes menthols, was wearing a t-shirt with the logo of some metal band that I couldn’t make out.”

The only response was a nod. Either she already knew about him, too, or she was better than most alphas at controlling herself. “Why?”

“Why did I do it, or why did I decide to tell you, my lady?”

Neassa’s eyebrows rose slightly, though Sam wasn’t sure whether it was a sign of surprise at her audacity, disapproval or respect. She doubted the last, though; there was little positive about Neassa’s scent. “Both,” was the short answer.

“To be honest, I was jealous. I know Nick; I live in the same house as him.” That would be known, since they had her address on file. “He never gave any sign of being a Dom before I saw him here, and then he just… came in here, into what I felt was _my_ space, and was better at it than I was. A… former friend of mine fed my insecurities, and I wanted revenge.”

For the first time, Neassa interrupted her. Not by saying anything, just by raising one slender hand, index finger up, but it was enough for Sam to swallow anything else she might have wanted to add. A few seconds passed. “So you’re saying you were manipulated into doing it? That it’s not your fault?”

Night, it would be so easy to claim that, and she knew that at some level it was true. But she couldn’t. She shook her head. “No, my lady. He may have led me along, but I knew what I was doing. I just didn’t consider the consequences other than putting Nick in his place. I didn’t even realise I was jealous of him, not then. I just hated him.” She swallowed, ashamed of how petty she’d been. “I’ve had a week to think about it, to really consider what I did. Kieran locked me up for a while for what I did to Nick, and I don’t blame him. Were I him, I’d have thrown me out, not offered me a chance to earn forgiveness.” She looked up briefly, though she wasn’t able to meet Neassa’s eyes for more than a second. “But I didn’t only betray Kieran and Nick, my lady. I betrayed your trust in me as a member of this club. I betrayed myself as a Domme. I owed it to you to hear it from me, owed you my honesty.” She did her best to keep her face straight, keep her bitterness from being seen or heard. “It’s the least I could offer, even when I know it’s not nearly enough to excuse what I did. I would have been here sooner, had I been able to.”

She stared at the floor and at the edge of the desk for what felt like hours. There was nothing more to say. Neassa’s scent didn’t soften, but it turned… speculative?

“Had you not come here by Monday, I would have called the Gardaí and informed them of what you’d done, given them all the evidence we had here.” Sam nodded her understanding. She wouldn’t blame Neassa if that was what she still wanted to do. She’d confess her actions again and face the legal consequences for it. “As you _did_ , however, there are other options available to me, should you be willing.” Sam blinked and looked up. Neassa was staring straight at her and after only a short while Sam had to avert her eyes again. “As your, hm, landlord assumed when he came here last weekend,” she went on, her body language and scent indicating she thought there was _something_ more than mere landlord-tenant relationship going on, “I do prefer dealing with rule-breaking personally. But speaking of Kieran… Did he know your involvement?”

Again, Sam blinked. “Last weekend? Not as such, no, my lady. He did know I was, at the time, against Nick, and he knew I was a member here, so he must have drawn some conclusion, but I didn’t tell him until…” When had it been? “Monday, I think. I lost track of time.” Lady Neassa did love her corsets. Today, it was black vinyl, with decorative chains around the sides. Sam had no idea how she managed wearing corsets all the time, and especially not how she never gave any sign of discomfort, even when flogging a sub for close to half an hour. And yes, staring at her corset seemed far safer than looking up into her eyes or, worse, at her cleavage.

“I see.” For a while, Neassa didn’t say anything more, only tapped one finger nail slowly against the desk. By the time she finally spoke, Sam was fighting a losing battle with her urge to drop down to the floor and silently beg to know how she could please the obviously irate alpha. “So not only did he neglect mentioning you might have something to do with the security breach here; he also kept you from approaching me sooner to confess your sins, is that correct?”

Sam nodded. “It is, my lady.” She tried to keep her tone neutral; she knew it didn’t matter in the long run that she hadn’t been _allowed_ to come here. She’d done wrong, and she could have informed Neassa as soon as she had access to a phone. That she hadn’t felt it right to do so by phone was… mostly irrelevant.

“Well.” Neassa waved her hand dismissively. “That’s not important right now. Right now, I need to decide what’s to be done with you.” She paused briefly and shifted where she sad, as if looking Sam up and down. Sam didn’t allow herself to fidget under the weight of that gaze, forced herself to wait patiently. “Any suggestions?”

Sam closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It didn’t take a sub to realise that some questions simply couldn’t go unanswered. “None, my lady. I won’t run from the consequences of what I did; whatever you think is appropriate, I’ll agree to.” She hesitated. She doubted it would be part of whatever Neassa was planning, but it needed to be said. Limits were important. “Apart from anything that would affect my health permanently or otherwise permanent body modifications.” Scars were one thing, though anything she did was unlikely to leave them unless she used silver implements, but she wouldn’t sit still and accept mutilation. She reminded herself carefully that Neassa was human, not a wolf. She couldn’t circumvent human laws _that_ much. As for tattoos or piercings, it would be even more obvious she wasn’t human if she healed _those_ overnight. It’d be hard enough to explain her rapid healing when it came to bruises and marks.

She could smell the surprise even before she heard it in Neassa’s voice. “That gives me a lot of leeway, girl.” Sam winced at the pet name, wanting to object and remind Neassa she wasn’t a sub. She didn’t. If that was part of the terms, part of her atonement, she would accept it. She wouldn’t enjoy it, but that was rather the point of a punishment in the first place.

She heard the office chair roll back, heard Neassa stand up and then the sharp sound of heels striking against the floor as the lady rounded her desk and came to stand right next to Sam. A hand on her shoulder nudged her to turn, to face the other Domme. Barefoot, the two were of equal height, but Sam’s heels were close to an inch shorter. Sam didn’t say anything, only waited for Neassa to inform her of what would happen. Part of her had to admit to being just a little relieved. The matter was out of her hands now. Lady Neassa might not be her pack leader, but she was comparable to one, if Sam considered Devotion her secondary pack.

“Your stated dynamic in our register is as a Domme. Is that still correct, girl?”

She was using the term to prove a point, Sam reminded herself, just in time to stop herself from growling or give any other sign of irritation over it. “It is, my lady, as far as sexual interest goes.”

Another surge of surprise. “And as far as non-sexual interest goes?”

“I have no problem finding my place in a hierarchy, or obey orders from those who belong above me in it.” Only with those who _thought_ they were above her. Which was, she had to admit to herself, part of why she’d disliked Nicholas so much. Because she’d assumed that his manner at the club represented what he thought about himself. She’d met a few service tops before; she’d never doubted they were anything other than that. Nicholas… had never shown any sign during play that he wasn’t a Dom.

“I see. What about my orders?”

Sam swallowed. “Not a problem, my lady.” Obeying _her_ was far from being a problem.

“Brilliant. On your knees, girl.”

It wasn’t completely unexpected, of course. Still, she had to quench a momentary flare of rebellion that once more had her wanting to burst out that she wasn’t a sub. If that was how Neassa wanted her to serve her penance, she reminded herself, that was what she was going to do. Just like how Kieran had her living the life of an omega.

Awkwardly, she lowered herself to her knees, a movement she didn’t have much practice with. She knew the technical part of how a sub was supposed to kneel, but she’d never done it herself. Should she take off her heels? She decided not to; that hadn’t been part of the order she’d been given. She wasn’t entirely sure if her decision to interpret it literally came from her beta core, refusing to submit to anything that hadn’t expressly been stated out loud, or from her desire to atone, her unwillingness to risk that Neassa would be displeased. Instead she simply spread her feet a little wider so she could rest her bum on them without risking breaking her heels or her skin. She clasped her left wrist with her right hand behind her back, allowing the movement to push her chest forward.

Neassa’s boot slid in between her knees, nudging them further apart, until her skirt was stretched tight between her thighs. The boot was pulled back, and then Neassa started to circle her. Slowly, slowly, she moved in behind Sam, clearly inspecting her. Sam well recognised the behaviour, having done it herself repeated times with her temporary subs, but that didn’t make it any less intimidating.

Hands on her shoulders, correcting her posture, pulling them back while thumbs kept her spine in place. Then one hand on her head, adjusting its angle. The slow footsteps continued, until Neassa was stood in front of her again.

“Adequate.”

Again, Sam had to bite back a growl. Of course she wasn’t perfect; it was her first attempt. Surely she deserved _some_ recognition for that? Then she remembered that no, she didn’t really deserve that. Neassa was silent for a few seconds, before a decisive tone made it into her scent. Sam all but held her breath. A decision had been made, and Sam would do her best to abide by it.

“What’s your safe word?”

Sam didn’t move. “Red and yellow, my lady.” Red and yellow were the ones she got used to when learning the ropes, pun intended, and they were the ones she was the most likely to remember to use. Since she’d never subbed, she’d never had to pick out a more personal safe word, and she didn’t see the need to do so now.

“Good.” There was a brief pause. Sam didn’t look up, though she did admit to cheating a little by inhaling Neassa’s scent in an attempt to determine the other Domme’s mood. Calm and determined, mostly, with just a little hint of uncertainty hidden behind hit all. She didn’t have time to consider that for long before Neassa spoke up again. “Samantha,” she said. “As I see it, you have two options. The first one involves me calling the Gardaí and handing you over to them. I’m not entirely sure what that would result in, so you’d chance anything from nothing to prison. The second involves submitting to me until I determine you have paid me back in full for the breach of trust between us. I haven’t decided quite yet exactly what I would do with you, so again you’d be taking a chance. Unlike the first option, however, ‘nothing’ is not a possible outcome. Do you have any questions before you make your choice?”

Until she’d paid Neassa back in full. Sam swallowed. That was a lot more open-ended than the penance Kieran had set. “I do, my lady.” She sucked in a breath and forced the words out. “Can I ask… Do you have any time frame in mind?” It wasn’t a good question, she knew that the moment anger filled Neassa’s scent. It wasn’t intense, but it was enough for Sam to know she’d crossed a line. She just wasn’t sure which line it was.

“For what? You choosing an option, or how long you’d submit to me if you chose the second?” Neassa’s voice was chilly, giving Sam a very acute look into how it must feel for subs who’d angered their Domme.

“The latter.” There were one good and two bad things about Sam’s answer. The good was that her voice didn’t come out as a whisper. The bad were that it came out as a near-squeak instead, and that it didn’t seem to make Neassa any happier.

Neassa bent down and fingers wrapped into Sam’s hair, pulling her head back until she was forced to look up into Neassa’s eyes. They were narrowed, her brows lowered. Her mouth, what Sam could see of it, caught as she was by Neassa’s stare, was thin-lipped and tense.

“What time frame did you have in mind for how long it’d take club members to start trusting in our security once it became known it was possible to get hold of our surveillance tapes?” The words were sharp, clipped.

It was impossible to backtrack, to say she hadn’t meant the question. She had. But the time limit wasn’t the important part of the question, the way Neassa apparently thought it was. No, it was that it couldn’t be allowed to keep her amongst humans during the full moon. She needed to find a way to explain that, without making any references to the moon phase and – should it take two months or longer – prevent Neassa from making such connections. It was too risky, even with humans unwilling to see the supernatural when it stared them in the face.

“That’s not what I meant, my lady,” she finally managed, doing her best to sound calm rather than pleading. Part of her couldn’t help but blame Kieran for her weakness; not that she _blamed_ him, not as such, but his orders, the penance he’d set for her, they were obviously affecting her wolf more than she’d expected, which meant all of her was affected.

Neassa’s expression didn’t change. “Then what _did_ you mean?” she snapped.

“I know what I’ll choose already. It was Devotion and ye who run it that I betrayed, not the Gardaí. I only asked because…” She closed her eyes. “If it’s going to take a month or more, I might have to add one more limit, my lady.”

Neassa’s scent softened, just the tiniest of bits, and she let go of Sam’s hair, pulling away slowly enough to indicate she didn’t want Sam to look away. “Go on, then.”

“I go visit my family about once a month, staying for three nights. I can’t miss those times. I just can’t.”

The last of Neassa’s anger seemed to drain away, replaced with… sympathy? “How far in advance will you know? Spur-of-the-moment, or planned?”

“Planned, my lady.” It would be nice to be able to change whenever she wanted, to not be bound to the lunar cycle, but there wasn’t anything she could do about _that_ , no matter how much she wanted to. Then again, if she could change through will, there wouldn’t be a reason to make up an excuse like this. “The next time I go is the 15th, some time late afternoon, early evening. I come back around noon the 18th.”

Neassa nodded slowly. “October, I assume.”

“October, my lady.”

“Any more questions?”

Sam shook her head. “None, my lady. I assume you’ll tell me the specifics of the arrangement soon enough.” Kieran knew she was here and that she might be late. It was unlikely Neassa would insist on Sam moving somewhere else for the duration of her penance, since it wasn’t Neassa _personally_ that Sam had betrayed, but if that was the case, she’d solve that with Kieran later. If need be, she’d ask him to extend the duration of her temporary status until one moon after she got back home, just to show him that she wasn’t trying to escape his part of her punishment.

Neassa studied her carefully for a few seconds. Then she nodded, took a step back, turned on her heel and went back to the other side of the desk. The wheels on her chair squeaked just a little as she rolled back into position. A desk drawer opened, there was a rustle of paper, then the distinct click of a biro pen.

“Stand up, girl.”

Getting up off the floor was harder than getting down on it, especially when her knees were actually touching the floor as compared to the crouch more common in the pack. Sam suspected she’d get a lot of training regarding that in the near future. Both as a pretend omega and a pretend sub. Not that she was planning on messing up at home, but depending on what terms Neassa set she might already today be forced to adopt the same position Nicholas had taken when he came home with Kieran last week.

When she finally got her feet back underneath her and straightened her aching knees, Neassa barely looked up at her before pushing a paper toward her side of the desk, together with another pen. Sam didn’t need to take a closer look at it to recognise it as a kink list.

“Fill it in,” Neassa ordered, still not looking up from what she was writing. “I expect you to grade everything as honestly as you can. Set a question mark after the grading when it’s an estimation rather than a known like or dislike. Should you discover any further limits, I want you to tell me right away. Do you understand?”

Sam nodded, picking up the biro. “I do, my lady.” Taking a deep breath, she started to go through it.

If she’d only needed to fill in limits, soft limits and non-limits, it would have been a lot easier. Now she had to consider everything carefully and grade it on a scale between one and five how little or how much she enjoyed each kink. Well, technically naught to five, with naught indicating her soft limits. There were a lot of kinks on the list, and everything was detailed and often separated into several sub-entries – no pun intended. It was a little tedious, but she could understand the separation. For someone, the distinction between different types of gags could be important, after all.

She hesitated at one entry, glancing up at Neassa. She was still writing, and by now it was fairly obvious what it was she was writing. “My lady?” Sam asked cautiously. Neassa looked up at her, one elegant eyebrow raised. “The entry for ‘given away to another Dom, permanently’; should I assume the term ‘permanently’ means ‘for the duration of the contract’?”

Neassa’s eyebrow lowered again, and she blinked slowly. “Excellent question. You can assume that, yes; I will put it into the contract as well.”

“Thank you, my lady.”

Neassa tapped the back end of her pen a few times against the desk. “

By the time Sam was done with the list, Neassa had finished writing. She deftly switched their papers around, giving Sam what she’d been writing down and picking up the list to look it over. Drawing in a deep breath, Sam focused on Neassa’s neat, round handwriting.

 _D/s contract between Neassa Byrne and Samantha Dermott_ , it started, and seeing the title in black on white like that drove things home and made them far more real than talking about it had. Sam wasn’t really interested in women as such, preferring the hard body of a man beneath her and especially the sense of accomplishment of having a larger and stronger person submit to her. But this wasn’t about sex, was it? All of a sudden, she wasn’t sure just what her penance might entail. Placing her hands flat on the desk on each side of the contract, in large part to keep her fingers from trembling, she read on.

_Of her own free will, Samantha Dermott, hereafter called ‘the sub’, agrees to place herself under the complete command of Neassa Byrne, hereafter called ‘the Domme’, starting on the 20th of August 2016. The purpose of the contract is to make amends for a business-related breach of trust, and will last until the Domme is satisfied that trust has been restored. As there is no definitive time limit set at this time, the contract will be reviewed and amended once a month, or more often should it prove necessary._

_The Limits the sub has stated are as follows:  
– No permanent markings or body modifications.  
– Nothing that would otherwise make a long-term negative effect on the sub’s health and mental well-being.  
– Approximately once a month, the sub visits with her family for around three nights. She will not give these visits up, but agrees to schedule them well in advance so the Domme can plan around them._

_For other preferences and soft limits, refer to the attached kink sheet. When used in said kink sheet in regards to placing the sub under the control of another Dominant, the term ‘permanently’ shall be understood to mean ‘for the remaining duration of this contract’; furthermore the power of determining of when to terminate the contract still lies with the Domme and not the new Dominant, and the new Dominant will be held to the same terms of the contract as the Domme._

_By signing this document, the sub promises to obey the Domme in all things to the best of her ability, to maintain honest and open communication, and to inform the Domme when something comes up that would interfere with these things. While she will be allowed to reside in her home, she promises to be at the Domme’s command at all times (apart from during aforementioned family visits), and to attend to the Domme as soon as possible when summoned._

_In turn, the Domme promises to work toward repairing the broken trust, to provide structure and motivation, to discipline the sub fairly and calmly, and to ensure that the sub’s limits are not broken. As this is not a contract based on mutual attraction, She further promises that sexual intercourse will not be part of it._

_Should a condition arise in which the sub needs to use her safe word ( Red and Yellow, for ‘stop’ and ‘slow down’, respectively), or safe gesture should speech be unavailable, she will do so promptly. The Domme will then assess the situation and determine the appropriate course of action._

_The sub agrees that discipline will be a regular occurrence during this contract, and that more severe punishments can be applied should she break the letter or spirit of this contract. The form and extent of said punishment will be at the Domme’s discretion, and She will make it clear to the sub that she is being punished when punishment occurs._

_The sub may, at any time, use her safe word and specify she wants to escape the contract. By doing so before such time as she is released from it, the sub understands and accepts that the Gardaí will be called in to legally deal with her breach of trust instead._

_Until such time as she is released from or safe-words out of the contract, the sub is permitted to engage in any and all activities not actively forbidden by the terms in the contract or by later edict by the Domme. All rights and privileges not otherwise noted in the contract or added at a later revision belong to the Domme, and She may exercise them as She chooses. Revisions will be dated, signed by both parties, and stored together with the original contract._




There were two lines drawn below, with one name neatly lettered underneath each line, but other than that, that was it. Sam shivered, closing her eyes and swallowed. On the one hand, it was a relief to see that she wouldn’t be expected to do anything overtly sexual with Neassa. She wouldn’t have protested, but she wouldn’t have enjoyed it either. Of course, she wasn’t likely to enjoy much of what would happen, but there was a distinct line in Sam’s head between sex and punishment, and it looked like there was one in Neassa’s mind as well. On the other hand, seeing the terms laid out in the contract, she realised there really wasn’t much she’d safeguarded herself from. The extra limit regarding sex that Neassa had given her was a nice one, but… the last paragraph of the contract made it all too clear that just because something wasn’t explicitly written out it didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen. _All rights and privileges_. She shivered again, seeing the words against the inside of her eyelids. Even the provision for a way to escape the contract didn’t help; Sam knew she wouldn’t take that route, as she couldn’t very well expect a prison to respect her wish to leave during full moon.

“Do you have any questions or comments before you sign it? Are any immediate revisions needed?”

Sam forced herself to open her eyes again, to look down at the contract in front of her. “I have, my lady.” She hesitated, trying to figure out which was the most important and how she should put it.

“Well? Out with them,” Neassa prompted her when she didn’t immediately speak up.

“Sorry, my lady. I was trying to find the right words. First of all, thank you. For…” She swallowed. “For specifying about sex, I mean.” Just those words, and Neassa’s anger was an acrid stench in her nose. She fell silent, wondering just what she’d said that had been so wrong.

“Sex is something between two consenting adults,” Neassa said a few seconds later. Her tone was clipped, and she’d clearly taken those seconds to calm herself down enough to speak. “It should _never_ be used as a punishment or as discipline. _Ever_.”

No, Neassa might not be her alpha, but the cold fury in her words had Sam’s knees threaten to buckle. Every instinct in her made her want to crawl on the floor and beg forgiveness for having said the wrong thing. It didn’t matter that she was a beta by nature. Faced with an alpha’s anger made even a beta want to apologise. Had there not been a desk between them, she would have. Now, if she dropped to the floor, she’d effectively be hiding from Neassa, and that wasn’t an option.

“Of course not, my lady,” she managed to push out. “I just didn’t expect that–”

“You should have,” Neassa snapped, interrupting her. “Using sex like that is little better than rape, and I will not stand for it. Not from me, and not from any other member of this club.”

Sam didn’t point out that it technically wouldn’t be rape since she wouldn’t say no, because she really appreciated the point Neassa had made. She nodded. “Thank you, my lady, and I apologise for offending you. I didn’t intend it that way; it just wasn’t something I had thought of myself, and I wanted to thank you for doing that and making it clear.”

Slowly, gradually, Neassa’s scent calmed down, the anger almost grudgingly settling into something akin to wounded pride. “Well, good. You’re welcome.” Her tone was still short, but not nearly as sharp as it had been. “What else was there?”

Taking a moment to calm herself down as well, Samantha focused on what else she’d planned to say. “I… don’t have a car, and I live about thirty kilometres from here. Usually, I can find someone to bring me into town, but… It says ‘as soon as possible’, my lady. How long will I have?” She could feel Neassa’s eyes on her, but her scent wasn’t angry this time. Knowing that, Sam didn’t panic as she waited.

“As soon as possible means just that. When you know you won’t be able to make it in a timely manner – say thirty to forty-five minutes are you at home and I want you here – I expect you to tell me. Should you be unable to find someone to give you a ride and end up ordering a taxi, I will agree to pay half the cost, because it wouldn’t have been necessary had I not ordered you to appear before me.” Her scent turned more determined. “That said, Samantha, I will not be tolerant of delays those times when you have considerable forewarning. Should I, for example, tell you to be here tomorrow at noon, I would _not_ be pleased to hear from you at half eleven, telling me you can’t make it in time. I would expect you to have planned appropriately, and unless there are circumstances that you couldn’t have foreseen, you can expect to be punished upon arrival if you’re late.”

Sam swallowed and nodded. “I understand, my lady.” In a way, it was a relief to hear it explained that clearly, and definitely a relief to hear that in those instances where no one in the pack was able to help her, she wouldn’t need to pay the entire taxi fee herself. She’d shared a taxi with Peter and Ben sometimes to get home, and knew all too well that it usually cost around sixty euro. Even if she agreed to pay the cost of petrol for whoever ended up driving her, she doubted it’d come anywhere close to that.

“Anything else?”

Sam’s mind was suddenly blank. She had a vague memory of having had something else to say, but she couldn’t for the life of her remember what. “I… think so,” she offered. “I just…” She quickly scanned the contract, just in case something there would jump start her memory. Nothing did. “I don’t remember what. I’m sorry.” She wasn’t entirely certain why she was apologising again.

She could all but _hear_ Neassa nod slowly. “Very well. When you remember what it was, I want you to tell me immediately. There’s room for making as many revisions as we need, should it come to that.”

Sam nodded her agreement. “I will, my lady.”

“Is there anything else that prevents us from signing this now?”

Taking a deep breath, Sam held it while she considered the paper that still rested between her hands. She slowly let it out again and shook her head. “Nothing I can think of,” she admitted. Her mouth was dry, and it was difficult to get the words out. She swallowed, cold sweat breaking out as Neassa said nothing more. This was it. Just one tiny signature, a corresponding one from Neassa, and she was trapped. She’d be a sub for the first time in her life. She’d…

Oh.

“I remembered,” she blurted out.

“Did you, now?”

She nodded. “I… Will you tell me, my lady? What you expect from me, I mean. I’ve never… I mean, I’m not…” She took another deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. It was ridiculous, it was. She was a beta, wasn’t she? Despite her current status as an omega, pack law couldn’t change her nature. There was no reason for her to be this nervous. There was no reason for her to stammer like a teenager caught with his hands down someone’s knickers. _Maintain honest and open communication._ She might as well get used to it. “I’ve never subbed before,” she forced herself to admit. “I’ve never entered into a contract with a sub that lasted beyond a scene or two. I don’t… I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.”

“Good girl.” While Sam still didn’t like being called that, it didn’t change the fact that Neassa wasn’t upset with her again, and that had to be a good thing. A tension she’d barely been aware of melted away. “Yes, I will tell you,” Neassa went on. “I won’t lie to you; I will be hard on you, and I will expect you to learn quickly. But I won’t punish you for failing to follow rules you don’t know about yet. As soon as the contract is signed and filed, I’ll inform you of my current expectations, and you will be given a copy of the contract to keep at home to remind you of the terms. Does that answer your question?”

After the contract was signed. Sam wouldn’t know the full extent of her submission until she’d signed her freedom away. Until it was too late to take it back.

No. It wouldn’t be too late. She’d still be able to safe-word her way out of it. The result of that and of deciding now that she didn’t want to sign it in the first place were the same.

She almost laughed at herself. She was so fucked. There was no way out of this.

Realising that Neassa was still waiting, she made herself nod. “It does, my lady.”

“Good.”

There was nothing else she could do. Closing her eyes, she fumbled for the biro she’d used earlier. Her fingers were trembling as they gripped it, but she forced them to stillness, forced herself to show a calmness that was completely at odds with the chaotic maelstrom of emotion inside. It would never have fooled a wolf, but maybe it would fool a human.

Opening her eyes once more, she set pen to paper and with one smooth scrawl gave herself over to Lady Neassa.


End file.
